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Nicomachean Ethics

Book 9, Chapter 1

IN all friendships between dissimilars it is, as
we have said, proportion that equalizes the parties and preserves the
friendship; e.g. in the political form of friendship the shoemaker gets a
return for his shoes in proportion to his worth, and the weaver and all other
craftsmen do the same. Now here a common measure has been provided in the form
of money, and therefore everything is referred to this and measured by this;
but in the friendship of lovers sometimes the lover complains that his excess
of love is not met by love in return though perhaps there is nothing lovable
about him), while often the beloved complains that the lover who formerly
promised everything now performs nothing. Such incidents happen when the lover
loves the beloved for the sake of pleasure while the beloved loves the lover
for the sake of utility, and they do not both possess the qualities expected of
them. If these be the objects of the friendship it is dissolved when they do
not get the things that formed the motives of their love; for each did not love
the other person himself but the qualities he had, and these were not enduring;
that is why the friendships also are transient. But the love of characters, as
has been said, endures because it is self-dependent. Differences arise when
what they get is something different and not what they desire; for it is like
getting nothing at all when we do not get what we aim at; compare the story of
the person who made promises to a lyre-player, promising him the more, the
better he sang, but in the morning, when the other demanded the fulfilment of
his promises, said that he had given pleasure for pleasure. Now if this had
been what each wanted, all would have been well; but if the one wanted
enjoyment but the other gain, and the one has what he wants while the other has
not, the terms of the association will not have been properly fulfilled; for
what each in fact wants is what he attends to, and it is for the sake of that
that that he will give what he has.

But who is to fix the worth of the service; he who makes the sacrifice
or he who has got the advantage? At any rate the other seems to leave it to
him. This is what they say Protagoras used to do; whenever he taught anything
whatsoever, he bade the learner assess the value of the knowledge, and accepted
the amount so fixed. But in such matters some men approve of the saying 'let a
man have his fixed reward'. Those who get the money first and then do none of
the things they said they would, owing to the extravagance of their promises,
naturally find themselves the objects of complaint; for they do not fulfil what
they agreed to. The sophists are perhaps compelled to do this because no one
would give money for the things they do know. These people then, if they do not
do what they have been paid for, are naturally made the objects of
complaint.

But where there is no contract of service, those who give up something
for the sake of the other party cannot (as we have said) be complained of (for
that is the nature of the friendship of virtue), and the return to them must be
made on the basis of their purpose (for it is purpose that is the
characteristic thing in a friend and in virtue). And so too, it seems, should
one make a return to those with whom one has studied philosophy; for their
worth cannot be measured against money, and they can get no honour which will
balance their services, but still it is perhaps enough, as it is with the gods
and with one's parents, to give them what one can.

If the gift was not of this sort, but was made with a view to a return,
it is no doubt preferable that the return made should be one that seems fair to
both parties, but if this cannot be achieved, it would seem not only necessary
that the person who gets the first service should fix the reward, but also
just; for if the other gets in return the equivalent of the advantage the
beneficiary has received, or the price lie would have paid for the pleasure, he
will have got what is fair as from the other.

We see this happening too with things put up for sale, and in some
places there are laws providing that no actions shall arise out of voluntary
contracts, on the assumption that one should settle with a person to whom one
has given credit, in the spirit in which one bargained with him. The law holds
that it is more just that the person to whom credit was given should fix the
terms than that the person who gave credit should do so. For most things are
not assessed at the same value by those who have them and those who want them;
each class values highly what is its own and what it is offering; yet the
return is made on the terms fixed by the receiver. But no doubt the receiver
should assess a thing not at what it seems worth when he has it, but at what he
assessed it at before he had it.

Book 9, Chapter 2

A further problem is set by such questions as, whether one should in all
things give the preference to one's father and obey him, or whether when one is
ill one should trust a doctor, and when one has to elect a general should elect
a man of military skill; and similarly whether one should render a service by
preference to a friend or to a good man, and should show gratitude to a
benefactor or oblige a friend, if one cannot do both.

All such questions are hard, are they not, to decide with precision? For
they admit of many variations of all sorts in respect both of the magnitude of
the service and of its nobility necessity. But that we should not give the
preference in all things to the same person is plain enough; and we must for
the most part return benefits rather than oblige friends, as we must pay back a
loan to a creditor rather than make one to a friend. But perhaps even this is
not always true; e.g. should a man who has been ransomed out of the hands of
brigands ransom his ransomer in return, whoever he may be (or pay him if he has
not been captured but demands payment) or should he ransom his father? It would
seem that he should ransom his father in preference even to himself. As we have
said, then, generally the debt should be paid, but if the gift is exceedingly
noble or exceedingly necessary, one should defer to these considerations. For
sometimes it is not even fair to return the equivalent of what one has
received, when the one man has done a service to one whom he knows to be good,
while the other makes a return to one whom he believes to be bad. For that
matter, one should sometimes not lend in return to one who has lent to oneself;
for the one person lent to a good man, expecting to recover his loan, while the
other has no hope of recovering from one who is believed to be bad. Therefore
if the facts really are so, the demand is not fair; and if they are not, but
people think they are, they would be held to be doing nothing strange in
refusing. As we have often pointed out, then, discussions about feelings and
actions have just as much definiteness as their subject-matter.

That we should not make the same return to every one, nor give a father
the preference in everything, as one does not sacrifice everything to Zeus, is
plain enough; but since we ought to render different things to parents,
brothers, comrades, and benefactors, we ought to render to each class what is
appropriate and becoming. And this is what people seem in fact to do; to
marriages they invite their kinsfolk; for these have a part in the family and
therefore in the doings that affect the family; and at funerals also they think
that kinsfolk, before all others, should meet, for the same reason. And it
would be thought that in the matter of food we should help our parents before
all others, since we owe our own nourishment to them, and it is more honourable
to help in this respect the authors of our being even before ourselves; and
honour too one should give to one's parents as one does to the gods, but not
any and every honour; for that matter one should not give the same honour to
one's father and one's mother, nor again should one give them the honour due to
a philosopher or to a general, but the honour due to a father, or again to a
mother. To all older persons, too, one should give honour appropriate to their
age, by rising to receive them and finding seats for them and so on; while to
comrades and brothers one should allow freedom of speech and common use of all
things. To kinsmen, too, and fellow-tribesmen and fellow-citizens and to every
other class one should always try to assign what is appropriate, and to compare
the claims of each class with respect to nearness of relation and to virtue or
usefulness. The comparison is easier when the persons belong to the same class,
and more laborious when they are different. Yet we must not on that account
shrink from the task, but decide the question as best we can.

Book 9, Chapter 3

Another question that arises is whether friendships should or should not
be broken off when the other party does not remain the same. Perhaps we may say
that there is nothing strange in breaking off a friendship based on utility or
pleasure, when our friends no longer have these attributes. For it was of these
attributes that we were the friends; and when these have failed it is
reasonable to love no longer. But one might complain of another if, when he
loved us for our usefulness or pleasantness, he pretended to love us for our
character. For, as we said at the outset, most differences arise between
friends when they are not friends in the spirit in which they think they are.
So when a man has deceived himself and has thought he was being loved for his
character, when the other person was doing nothing of the kind, he must blame
himself; when he has been deceived by the pretences of the other person, it is
just that he should complain against his deceiver; he will complain with more
justice than one does against people who counterfeit the currency, inasmuch as
the wrongdoing is concerned with something more valuable.

But if one accepts another man as good, and he turns out badly and is
seen to do so, must one still love him? Surely it is impossible, since not
everything can be loved, but only what is good. What is evil neither can nor
should be loved; for it is not one's duty to be a lover of evil, nor to become
like what is bad; and we have said that like is dear like. Must the friendship,
then, be forthwith broken off? Or is this not so in all cases, but only when
one's friends are incurable in their wickedness? If they are capable of being
reformed one should rather come to the assistance of their character or their
property, inasmuch as this is better and more characteristic of friendship. But
a man who breaks off such a friendship would seem to be doing nothing strange;
for it was not to a man of this sort that he was a friend; when his friend has
changed, therefore, and he is unable to save him, he gives him up.

But if one friend remained the same while the other became better and
far outstripped him in virtue, should the latter treat the former as a friend?
Surely he cannot. When the interval is great this becomes most plain, e.g. in
the case of childish friendships; if one friend remained a child in intellect
while the other became a fully developed man, how could they be friends when
they neither approved of the same things nor delighted in and were pained by
the same things? For not even with regard to each other will their tastes
agree, and without this (as we saw) they cannot be friends; for they cannot
live together. But we have discussed these matters.

Should he, then, behave no otherwise towards him than he would if he had
never been his friend? Surely he should keep a remembrance of their former
intimacy, and as we think we ought to oblige friends rather than strangers, so
to those who have been our friends we ought to make some allowance for our
former friendship, when the breach has not been due to excess of wickedness.

Book 9, Chapter 4

Friendly relations with one's neighbours, and the marks by which
friendships are defined, seem to have proceeded from a man's relations to
himself. For (1) we define a friend as one who wishes and does what is good, or
seems so, for the sake of his friend, or (2) as one who wishes his friend to
exist and live, for his sake; which mothers do to their children, and friends
do who have come into conflict. And (3) others define him as one who lives with
and (4) has the same tastes as another, or (5) one who grieves and rejoices
with his friend; and this too is found in mothers most of all. It is by some
one of these characterstics that friendship too is defined.

Now each of these is true of the good man's relation to himself (and of
all other men in so far as they think themselves good; virtue and the good man
seem, as has been said, to be the measure of every class of things). For his
opinions are harmonious, and he desires the same things with all his soul; and
therefore he wishes for himself what is good and what seems so, and does it
(for it is characteristic of the good man to work out the good), and does so
for his own sake (for he does it for the sake of the intellectual element in
him, which is thought to be the man himself); and he wishes himself to live and
be preserved, and especially the element by virtue of which he thinks. For
existence is good to the virtuous man, and each man wishes himself what is
good, while no one chooses to possess the whole world if he has first to become
some one else (for that matter, even now God possesses the good); he wishes for
this only on condition of being whatever he is; and the element that thinks
would seem to be the individual man, or to be so more than any other element in
him. And such a man wishes to live with himself; for he does so with pleasure,
since the memories of his past acts are delightful and his hopes for the future
are good, and therefore pleasant. His mind is well stored too with subjects of
contemplation. And he grieves and rejoices, more than any other, with himself;
for the same thing is always painful, and the same thing always pleasant, and
not one thing at one time and another at another; he has, so to speak, nothing
to repent of.

Therefore, since each of these characteristics belongs to the good man
in relation to himself, and he is related to his friend as to himself (for his
friend is another self), friendship too is thought to be one of these
attributes, and those who have these attributes to be friends. Whether there is
or is not friendship between a man and himself is a question we may dismiss for
the present; there would seem to be friendship in so far as he is two or more,
to judge from the afore-mentioned attributes of friendship, and from the fact
that the extreme of friendship is likened to one's love for oneself.

But the attributes named seem to belong even to the majority of men,
poor creatures though they may be. Are we to say then that in so far as they
are satisfied with themselves and think they are good, they share in these
attributes? Certainly no one who is thoroughly bad and impious has these
attributes, or even seems to do so. They hardly belong even to inferior people;
for they are at variance with themselves, and have appetites for some things
and rational desires for others. This is true, for instance, of incontinent
people; for they choose, instead of the things they themselves think good,
things that are pleasant but hurtful; while others again, through cowardice and
laziness, shrink from doing what they think best for themselves. And those who
have done many terrible deeds and are hated for their wickedness even shrink
from life and destroy themselves. And wicked men seek for people with whom to
spend their days, and shun themselves; for they remember many a grevious deed,
and anticipate others like them, when they are by themselves, but when they are
with others they forget. And having nothing lovable in them they have no
feeling of love to themselves. Therefore also such men do not rejoice or grieve
with themselves; for their soul is rent by faction, and one element in it by
reason of its wickedness grieves when it abstains from certain acts, while the
other part is pleased, and one draws them this way and the other that, as if
they were pulling them in pieces. If a man cannot at the same time be pained
and pleased, at all events after a short time he is pained because he was
pleased, and he could have wished that these things had not been pleasant to
him; for bad men are laden with repentance.

Therefore the bad man does not seem to be amicably disposed even to
himself, because there is nothing in him to love; so that if to be thus is the
height of wretchedness, we should strain every nerve to avoid wickedness and
should endeavour to be good; for so and only so can one be either friendly to
oneself or a friend to another.

Book 9, Chapter 5

Goodwill is a friendly sort of relation, but is not identical with
friendship; for one may have goodwill both towards people whom one does not
know, and without their knowing it, but not friendship. This has indeed been
said already.' But goodwill is not even friendly feeling. For it does not
involve intensity or desire, whereas these accompany friendly feeling; and
friendly feeling implies intimacy while goodwill may arise of a sudden, as it
does towards competitors in a contest; we come to feel goodwill for them and to
share in their wishes, but we would not do anything with them; for, as we said,
we feel goodwill suddenly and love them only superficially.

Goodwill seems, then, to be a beginning of friendship, as the pleasure
of the eye is the beginning of love. For no one loves if he has not first been
delighted by the form of the beloved, but he who delights in the form of
another does not, for all that, love him, but only does so when he also longs
for him when absent and craves for his presence; so too it is not possible for
people to be friends if they have not come to feel goodwill for each other, but
those who feel goodwill are not for all that friends; for they only wish well
to those for whom they feel goodwill, and would not do anything with them nor
take trouble for them. And so one might by an extension of the term friendship
say that goodwill is inactive friendship, though when it is prolonged and
reaches the point of intimacy it becomes friendship -- not the friendship based
on utility nor that based on pleasure; for goodwill too does not arise on those
terms. The man who has received a benefit bestows goodwill in return for what
has been done to him, but in doing so is only doing what is just; while he who
wishes some one to prosper because he hopes for enrichment through him seems to
have goodwill not to him but rather to himself, just as a man is not a friend
to another if he cherishes him for the sake of some use to be made of him. In
general, goodwill arises on account of some excellence and worth, when one man
seems to another beautiful or brave or something of the sort, as we pointed out
in the case of competitors in a contest.

Book 9, Chapter 6

Unanimity also seems to be a friendly relation. For this reason it is
not identity of opinion; for that might occur even with people who do not know
each other; nor do we say that people who have the same views on any and every
subject are unanimous, e.g. those who agree about the heavenly bodies (for
unanimity about these is not a friendly relation), but we do say that a city is
unanimous when men have the same opinion about what is to their interest, and
choose the same actions, and do what they have resolved in common. It is about
things to be done, therefore, that people are said to be unanimous, and, among
these, about matters of consequence and in which it is possible for both or all
parties to get what they want; e.g. a city is unanimous when all its citizens
think that the offices in it should be elective, or that they should form an
alliance with Sparta, or that Pittacus should be their ruler -- at a time when
he himself was also willing to rule. But when each of two people wishes himself
to have the thing in question, like the captains in the Phoenissae, they are in
a state of faction; for it is not unanimity when each of two parties thinks of
the same thing, whatever that may be, but only when they think of the same
thing in the same hands, e.g. when both the common people and those of the
better class wish the best men to rule; for thus and thus alone do all get what
they aim at. Unanimity seems, then, to be political friendship, as indeed it is
commonly said to be; for it is concerned with things that are to our interest
and have an influence on our life.

Now such unanimity is found among good men; for they are unanimous both
in themselves and with one another, being, so to say, of one mind (for the
wishes of such men are constant and not at the mercy of opposing currents like
a strait of the sea), and they wish for what is just and what is advantageous,
and these are the objects of their common endeavour as well. But bad men cannot
be unanimous except to a small extent, any more than they can be friends, since
they aim at getting more than their share of advantages, while in labour and
public service they fall short of their share; and each man wishing for
advantage to himself criticizes his neighbour and stands in his way; for if
people do not watch it carefully the common weal is soon destroyed. The result
is that they are in a state of faction, putting compulsion on each other but
unwilling themselves to do what is just.

Book 9, Chapter 7

Benefactors are thought to love those they have benefited, more than
those who have been well treated love those that have treated them well, and
this is discussed as though it were paradoxical. Most people think it is
because the latter are in the position of debtors and the former of creditors;
and therefore as, in the case of loans, debtors wish their creditors did not
exist, while creditors actually take care of the safety of their debtors, so it
is thought that benefactors wish the objects of their action to exist since
they will then get their gratitude, while the beneficiaries take no interest in
making this return. Epicharmus would perhaps declare that they say this because
they 'look at things on their bad side', but it is quite like human nature; for
most people are forgetful, and are more anxious to be well treated than to
treat others well. But the cause would seem to be more deeply rooted in the
nature of things; the case of those who have lent money is not even analogous.
For they have no friendly feeling to their debtors, but only a wish that they
may kept safe with a view to what is to be got from them; while those who have
done a service to others feel friendship and love for those they have served
even if these are not of any use to them and never will be. This is what
happens with craftsmen too; every man loves his own handiwork better than he
would be loved by it if it came alive; and this happens perhaps most of all
with poets; for they have an excessive love for their own poems, doting on them
as if they were their children. This is what the position of benefactors is
like; for that which they have treated well is their handiwork, and therefore
they love this more than the handiwork does its maker. The cause of this is
that existence is to all men a thing to be chosen and loved, and that we exist
by virtue of activity (i.e. by living and acting), and that the handiwork is in
a sense, the producer in activity; he loves his handiwork, therefore, because
he loves existence. And this is rooted in the nature of things; for what he is
in potentiality, his handiwork manifests in activity.

At the same time to the benefactor that is noble which depends on his
action, so that he delights in the object of his action, whereas to the patient
there is nothing noble in the agent, but at most something advantageous, and
this is less pleasant and lovable. What is pleasant is the activity of the
present, the hope of the future, the memory of the past; but most pleasant is
that which depends on activity, and similarly this is most lovable. Now for a
man who has made something his work remains (for the noble is lasting), but for
the person acted on the utility passes away. And the memory of noble things is
pleasant, but that of useful things is not likely to be pleasant, or is less
so; though the reverse seems true of expectation.

Further, love is like activity, being loved like passivity; and loving
and its concomitants are attributes of those who are the more active.

Again, all men love more what they have won by labour; e.g. those who
have made their money love it more than those who have inherited it; and to be
well treated seems to involve no labour, while to treat others well is a
laborious task. These are the reasons, too, why mothers are fonder of their
children than fathers; bringing them into the world costs them more pains, and
they know better that the children are their own. This last point, too, would
seem to apply to benefactors.

Book 9, Chapter 8

The question is also debated, whether a man should love himself most, or
some one else. People criticize those who love themselves most, and call them
self-lovers, using this as an epithet of disgrace, and a bad man seems to do
everything for his own sake, and the more so the more wicked he is -- and so
men reproach him, for instance, with doing nothing of his own accord -- while
the good man acts for honour's sake, and the more so the better he is, and acts
for his friend's sake, and sacrifices his own interest.

But the facts clash with these arguments, and this is not surprising.
For men say that one ought to love best one's best friend, and man's best
friend is one who wishes well to the object of his wish for his sake, even if
no one is to know of it; and these attributes are found most of all in a man's
attitude towards himself, and so are all the other attributes by which a friend
is defined; for, as we have said, it is from this relation that all the
characteristics of friendship have extended to our neighbours. All the
proverbs, too, agree with this, e.g. 'a single soul', and 'what friends have is
common property', and 'friendship is equality', and 'charity begins at home';
for all these marks will be found most in a man's relation to himself; he is
his own best friend and therefore ought to love himself best. It is therefore a
reasonable question, which of the two views we should follow; for both are
plausible.

Perhaps we ought to mark off such arguments from each other and
determine how far and in what respects each view is right. Now if we grasp the
sense in which each school uses the phrase 'lover of self', the truth may
become evident. Those who use the term as one of reproach ascribe self-love to
people who assign to themselves the greater share of wealth, honours, and
bodily pleasures; for these are what most people desire, and busy themselves
about as though they were the best of all things, which is the reason, too, why
they become objects of competition. So those who are grasping with regard to
these things gratify their appetites and in general their feelings and the
irrational element of the soul; and most men are of this nature (which is the
reason why the epithet has come to be used as it is -- it takes its meaning
from the prevailing type of self-love, which is a bad one); it is just,
therefore, that men who are lovers of self in this way are reproached for being
so. That it is those who give themselves the preference in regard to objects of
this sort that most people usually call lovers of self is plain; for if a man
were always anxious that he himself, above all things, should act justly,
temperately, or in accordance with any other of the virtues, and in general
were always to try to secure for himself the honourable course, no one will
call such a man a lover of self or blame him.

But such a man would seem more than the other a lover of self; at all
events he assigns to himself the things that are noblest and best, and
gratifies the most authoritative element in and in all things obeys this; and
just as a city or any other systematic whole is most properly identified with
the most authoritative element in it, so is a man; and therefore the man who
loves this and gratifies it is most of all a lover of self. Besides, a man is
said to have or not to have self-control according as his reason has or has not
the control, on the assumption that this is the man himself; and the things men
have done on a rational principle are thought most properly their own acts and
voluntary acts. That this is the man himself, then, or is so more than anything
else, is plain, and also that the good man loves most this part of him. Whence
it follows that he is most truly a lover of self, of another type than that
which is a matter of reproach, and as different from that as living according
to a rational principle is from living as passion dictates, and desiring what
is noble from desiring what seems advantageous. Those, then, who busy
themselves in an exceptional degree with noble actions all men approve and
praise; and if all were to strive towards what is noble and strain every nerve
to do the noblest deeds, everything would be as it should be for the common
weal, and every one would secure for himself the goods that are greatest, since
virtue is the greatest of goods.

Therefore the good man should be a lover of self (for he will both
himself profit by doing noble acts, and will benefit his fellows), but the
wicked man should not; for he will hurt both himself and his neighbours,
following as he does evil passions. For the wicked man, what he does clashes
with what he ought to do, but what the good man ought to do he does; for reason
in each of its possessors chooses what is best for itself, and the good man
obeys his reason. It is true of the good man too that he does many acts for the
sake of his friends and his country, and if necessary dies for them; for he
will throw away both wealth and honours and in general the goods that are
objects of competition, gaining for himself nobility; since he would prefer a
short period of intense pleasure to a long one of mild enjoyment, a twelvemonth
of noble life to many years of humdrum existence, and one great and noble
action to many trivial ones. Now those who die for others doubtless attain this
result; it is therefore a great prize that they choose for themselves. They
will throw away wealth too on condition that their friends will gain more; for
while a man's friend gains wealth he himself achieves nobility; he is therefore
assigning the greater good to himself. The same too is true of honour and
office; all these things he will sacrifice to his friend; for this is noble and
laudable for himself. Rightly then is he thought to be good, since he chooses
nobility before all else. But he may even give up actions to his friend; it may
be nobler to become the cause of his friend's acting than to act himself. In
all the actions, therefore, that men are praised for, the good man is seen to
assign to himself the greater share in what is noble. In this sense, then, as
has been said, a man should be a lover of self; but in the sense in which most
men are so, he ought not.

Book 9, Chapter 9

It is also disputed whether the happy man will need friends or not. It
is said that those who are supremely happy and self-sufficient have no need of
friends; for they have the things that are good, and therefore being
self-sufficient they need nothing further, while a friend, being another self,
furnishes what a man cannot provide by his own effort; whence the saying 'when
fortune is kind, what need of friends?' But it seems strange, when one assigns
all good things to the happy man, not to assign friends, who are thought the
greatest of external goods. And if it is more characteristic of a friend to do
well by another than to be well done by, and to confer benefits is
characteristic of the good man and of virtue, and it is nobler to do well by
friends than by strangers, the good man will need people to do well by. This is
why the question is asked whether we need friends more in prosperity or in
adversity, on the assumption that not only does a man in adversity need people
to confer benefits on him, but also those who are prospering need people to do
well by. Surely it is strange, too, to make the supremely happy man a solitary;
for no one would choose the whole world on condition of being alone, since man
is a political creature and one whose nature is to live with others. Therefore
even the happy man lives with others; for he has the things that are by nature
good. And plainly it is better to spend his days with friends and good men than
with strangers or any chance persons. Therefore the happy man needs friends.

What then is it that the first school means, and in what respect is it
right? Is it that most identify friends with useful people? Of such friends
indeed the supremely happy man will have no need, since he already has the
things that are good; nor will he need those whom one makes one's friends
because of their pleasantness, or he will need them only to a small extent (for
his life, being pleasant, has no need of adventitious pleasure); and because he
does not need such friends he is thought not to need friends.

But that is surely not true. For we have said at the outset that
happiness is an activity; and activity plainly comes into being and is not
present at the start like a piece of property. If (1) happiness lies in living
and being active, and the good man's activity is virtuous and pleasant in
itself, as we have said at the outset, and (2) a thing's being one's own is one
of the attributes that make it pleasant, and (3) we can contemplate our
neighbours better than ourselves and their actions better than our own, and if
the actions of virtuous men who are their friends are pleasant to good men
(since these have both the attributes that are naturally pleasant), -- if this
be so, the supremely happy man will need friends of this sort, since his
purpose is to contemplate worthy actions and actions that are his own, and the
actions of a good man who is his friend have both these qualities.

Further, men think that the happy man ought to live pleasantly. Now if
he were a solitary, life would be hard for him; for by oneself it is not easy
to be continuously active; but with others and towards others it is easier.
With others therefore his activity will be more continuous, and it is in itself
pleasant, as it ought to be for the man who is supremely happy; for a good man
qua good delights in virtuous actions and is vexed at vicious ones, as a
musical man enjoys beautiful tunes but is pained at bad ones. A certain
training in virtue arises also from the company of the good, as Theognis has
said before us.

If we look deeper into the nature of things, a virtuous friend seems to
be naturally desirable for a virtuous man. For that which is good by nature, we
have said, is for the virtuous man good and pleasant in itself. Now life is
defined in the case of animals by the power of perception in that of man by the
power of perception or thought; and a power is defined by reference to the
corresponding activity, which is the essential thing; therefore life seems to
be essentially the act of perceiving or thinking. And life is among the things
that are good and pleasant in themselves, since it is determinate and the
determinate is of the nature of the good; and that which is good by nature is
also good for the virtuous man (which is the reason why life seems pleasant to
all men); but we must not apply this to a wicked and corrupt life nor to a life
spent in pain; for such a life is indeterminate, as are its attributes. The
nature of pain will become plainer in what follows. But if life itself is good
and pleasant (which it seems to be, from the very fact that all men desire it,
and particularly those who are good and supremely happy; for to such men life
is most desirable, and their existence is the most supremely happy) and if he
who sees perceives that he sees, and he who hears, that he hears, and he who
walks, that he walks, and in the case of all other activities similarly there
is something which perceives that we are active, so that if we perceive, we
perceive that we perceive, and if we think, that we think; and if to perceive
that we perceive or think is to perceive that we exist (for existence was
defined as perceiving or thinking); and if perceiving that one lives is in
itself one of the things that are pleasant (for life is by nature good, and to
perceive what is good present in oneself is pleasant); and if life is
desirable, and particularly so for good men, because to them existence is good
and pleasant for they are pleased at the consciousness of the presence in them
of what is in itself good); and if as the virtuous man is to himself, he is to
his friend also (for his friend is another self): -- if all this be true, as
his own being is desirable for each man, so, or almost so, is that of his
friend. Now his being was seen to be desirable because he perceived his own
goodness, and such perception is pleasant in itself. He needs, therefore, to be
conscious of the existence of his friend as well, and this will be realized in
their living together and sharing in discussion and thought; for this is what
living together would seem to mean in the case of man, and not, as in the case
of cattle, feeding in the same place.

If, then, being is in itself desirable for the supremely happy man
(since it is by its nature good and pleasant), and that of his friend is very
much the same, a friend will be one of the things that are desirable. Now that
which is desirable for him he must have, or he will be deficient in this
respect. The man who is to be happy will therefore need virtuous friends.

Book 9, Chapter 10

Should we, then, make as many friends as possible, or -- as in the case
of hospitality it is thought to be suitable advice, that one should be 'neither
a man of many guests nor a man with none' -- will that apply to friendship as
well; should a man neither be friendless nor have an excessive number of
friends?

To friends made with a view to utility this saying would seem thoroughly
applicable; for to do services to many people in return is a laborious task and
life is not long enough for its performance. Therefore friends in excess of
those who are sufficient for our own life are superfluous, and hindrances to
the noble life; so that we have no need of them. Of friends made with a view to
pleasure, also, few are enough, as a little seasoning in food is enough.

But as regards good friends, should we have as many as possible, or is
there a limit to the number of one's friends, as there is to the size of a
city? You cannot make a city of ten men, and if there are a hundred thousand it
is a city no longer. But the proper number is presumably not a single number,
but anything that falls between certain fixed points. So for friends too there
is a fixed number perhaps the largest number with whom one can live together
(for that, we found, thought to be very characteristic of friendship); and that
one cannot live with many people and divide oneself up among them is plain.
Further, they too must be friends of one another, if they are all to spend
their days together; and it is a hard business for this condition to be
fulfilled with a large number. It is found difficult, too, to rejoice and to
grieve in an intimate way with many people, for it may likely happen that one
has at once to be happy with one friend and to mourn with another. Presumably,
then, it is well not to seek to have as many friends as possible, but as many
as are enough for the purpose of living together; for it would seem actually
impossible to be a great friend to many people. This is why one cannot love
several people; love is ideally a sort of excess of friendship, and that can
only be felt towards one person; therefore great friendship too can only be
felt towards a few people. This seems to be confirmed in practice; for we do
not find many people who are friends in the comradely way of friendship, and
the famous friendships of this sort are always between two people. Those who
have many friends and mix intimately with them all are thought to be no one's
friend, except in the way proper to fellow-citizens, and such people are also
called obsequious. In the way proper to fellow-citizens, indeed, it is possible
to be the friend of many and yet not be obsequious but a genuinely good man;
but one cannot have with many people the friendship based on virtue and on the
character of our friends themselves, and we must be content if we find even a
few such.

Book 9, Chapter 11

Do we need friends more in good fortune or in bad? They are sought after
in both; for while men in adversity need help, in prosperity they need people
to live with and to make the objects of their beneficence; for they wish to do
well by others. Friendship, then, is more necessary in bad fortune, and so it
is useful friends that one wants in this case; but it is more noble in good
fortune, and so we also seek for good men as our friends, since it is more
desirable to confer benefits on these and to live with these. For the very
presence of friends is pleasant both in good fortune and also in bad, since
grief is lightened when friends sorrow with us. Hence one might ask whether
they share as it were our burden, or -- without that happening -- their
presence by its pleasantness, and the thought of their grieving with us, make
our pain less. Whether it is for these reasons or for some other that our grief
is lightened, is a question that may be dismissed; at all events what we have
described appears to take place.

But their presence seems to contain a mixture of various factors. The
very seeing of one's friends is pleasant, especially if one is in adversity,
and becomes a safeguard against grief (for a friend tends to comfort us both by
the sight of him and by his words, if he is tactful, since he knows our
character and the things that please or pain us); but to see him pained at our
misfortunes is painful; for every one shuns being a cause of pain to his
friends. For this reason people of a manly nature guard against making their
friends grieve with them, and, unless he be exceptionally insensible to pain,
such a man cannot stand the pain that ensues for his friends, and in general
does not admit fellow-mourners because he is not himself given to mourning; but
women and womanly men enjoy sympathisers in their grief, and love them as
friends and companions in sorrow. But in all things one obviously ought to
imitate the better type of person.

On the other hand, the presence of friends in our prosperity implies
both a pleasant passing of our time and the pleasant thought of their pleasure
at our own good fortune. For this cause it would seem that we ought to summon
our friends readily to share our good fortunes (for the beneficent character is
a noble one), but summon them to our bad fortunes with hesitation; for we ought
to give them as little a share as possible in our evils whence the saying
'enough is my misfortune'. We should summon friends to us most of all when they
are likely by suffering a few inconveniences to do us a great service.

Conversely, it is fitting to go unasked and readily to the aid of those
in adversity (for it is characteristic of a friend to render services, and
especially to those who are in need and have not demanded them; such action is
nobler and pleasanter for both persons); but when our friends are prosperous we
should join readily in their activities (for they need friends for these too),
but be tardy in coming forward to be the objects of their kindness; for it is
not noble to be keen to receive benefits. Still, we must no doubt avoid getting
the reputation of kill -- joys by repulsing them; for that sometimes happens.

The presence of friends, then, seems desirable in all circumstances.

Book 9, Chapter 12

Does it not follow, then, that, as for lovers the sight of the beloved
is the thing they love most, and they prefer this sense to the others because
on it love depends most for its being and for its origin, so for friends the
most desirable thing is living together? For friendship is a partnership, and
as a man is to himself, so is he to his friend; now in his own case the
consciousness of his being is desirable, and so therefore is the consciousness
of his friend's being, and the activity of this consciousness is produced when
they live together, so that it is natural that they aim at this. And whatever
existence means for each class of men, whatever it is for whose sake they value
life, in that they wish to occupy themselves with their friends; and so some
drink together, others dice together, others join in athletic exercises and
hunting, or in the study of philosophy, each class spending their days together
in whatever they love most in life; for since they wish to live with their
friends, they do and share in those things which give them the sense of living
together. Thus the friendship of bad men turns out an evil thing (for because
of their instability they unite in bad pursuits, and besides they become evil
by becoming like each other), while the friendship of good men is good, being
augmented by their companionship; and they are thought to become better too by
their activities and by improving each other; for from each other they take the
mould of the characteristics they approve -- whence the saying 'noble deeds
from noble men'. -- So much, then, for friendship; our next task must be to
discuss pleasure.